Being Sixteen Again

 

It feels strange

being sixteen

just before learning to swing

regardless

I feel honored

to be on your list at all

after all I’ve done

and left undone

whether knowingly

or inadvertently

because I’m sorry

I didn’t love you

when you needed it

I’m sorry

I didn’t seek you enough

while you loved me

and sought me enough

I’m sorry

we never danced

I was wrong

and now I know

I’d buy you a van

shop for your food

get you new clothes

make all things new

find you a home

or purchase a slab

whatever it takes

send me

here I am

count me

worthy to share

without condemnation

your spotless mysteries

for eternal life

Solomon's Missing Tool

Three words

Rarely spoken

Never heard

Important as

I love you

Just three words 

Not written or recorded

Prayed or preached

But spoken face to face 

Three syllables

Better than sex and candy

Fulfilling more than feeding five thousand

Laying down all shields and weapons

Making all things new 

Just these three

Needed to be

Spoken and heard

Without pretense or bullshit

I was wrong.

My Saying

There they were

Sandwiched between lined sheets of trees

Flattened like Crêpes

To preserve their wisdom

There they were

Sealed by thumbs

Pressed across the tops of five cent plastic bubbles

Preserved among the scribbles of ideas, nouns, and butter boxes 

There they were

Two sweet chocolate doves of foil

With velvety aphorisms stamped

Under their flesh

One of the once-crumpled silvery sages spoke thus:

“Love is always the perfect gift”

You then replied on a napkin:

“Love means learning to like you.”

The second shiny sage opined:

“Warmth on the inside can melt cold on the outside.”

I then replied:

That explains the lack of warmth in your home.

They only learned to like you after you were gone.

Storybook Land

I still remember that night in the hotel

Weeks before seeing the wall 

Glistening oil appeared on my right foot

I scratched it vertically, and lightly before sleeping

Morning came and it ate away all my flesh

Its scab formed and cracked and leaked every step thereafter

Beginning to heal

Only when I returned 

Grabbing my ladder to heaven

Which I intentionally left behind

Wrestling with God 

To receive the blessing

Pondering the cause of dread

The fear of being found

The pseudonyms

The churches visited 

The lacks of assurance 

The constant, confident hopes

The mountains of cardboard

The horse on one of its peaks

Imagining that we’d walk that yellow brick road together

And watch Jesus walk by

Living with all those good samaritans 

Dying for their Lord

But by the time I could see the wall, my foot healed

Only say a word and my soul shall be healed, too

Mic Drop

I pushed in that flat plastic donut

Waiting for laser beams to reflect off your words

And there you were

Standing in front of me as I lounged on hundred year old concrete

The real you

Behind the mic

With a welcome audience

You must have felt loved

I could see you 

Behind the mic

The real you

Nervous but eager to share

Your art

Your gift

So wonderful 

To see your joy

And hear your crackling throat giggle

Beneath the mic

Wooing me

Then the laser beams stopped reflecting

And you were gone again

From Him

 

Not many wise

have lived on ninety dollars per month

and saved what they gleaned each day 

just so they could tithe ten percent out of love

Not many mighty 

have lived in remote locations with no fuel

and saved what they gleaned each day

just to get another junk car to pray in

Not many noble

have lived, inscribing their story into stony hearts 

saving what they could glean each day

just to be known and loved for their fellowship in Christ

But God chose you

to become Wisdom to us from Him

—justice, holiness, and redemption—

to bring to nothing the things that are

Pistis

When in doubt 

Trust the experts

The experts are there 

To help you

Establish trust 

Sort through the complexities 

Of these situations 

Professionals and experts 

Exist because the majority 

Of the world

Are not experts 

The system is designed

To help everyone 

Remain informed 

It was built 

For the uninformed 

To become experts 

For the naïve

To be informed properly

We need to trust the experts 

We need to follow the facts and the science 

Wherever they lead us 

Only they know 

How to get us back

To where we need to be